


before you turn out the light

by preromantics



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: Drabble, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-12
Updated: 2010-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vignette about leaving: Brendon hums, deep in his throat so that Shane can feel it through the tips of his fingers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	before you turn out the light

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ 3/28/08.

Shane's breath travels warm and sticky against the curve of Brendon's back, down the swell of his ass, and Brendon is not above a pathetic whimper. Shane chuckles, massaging along the back of Brendon's thigh, down his knee and then suddenly up.

Brendon hums, more content, and settles into the mattress (if not for a little bit of friction against the sheets.)

"This is my last night with you," Shane says into the baby smooth skin of Brendon's ass. He's so close Brendon can feel his breath, moist, and he pushes up a fraction.

"For like, two weeks, Jesus," Brendon groans, "You can survive."

Shane laughs again, low and scratchy. He leans down and spreads Brendon's ass cheeks, blowing between before licking a firm stripe up, just fleetingly past where he wants it most, so much. When he comes back up, hands lingering, Shane asks happily, "But can you last without me?"

"Fuck you," Brendon says. He groans at the end, thoughts cut off while Shane worms a finger inside, slick.

"Shut up," Shane says, agreeablely.

He pushes Brendon harder into the mattress with the flat plane of his arm, two fingers sliding in and out, easier now. Brendon pushes up into him, his impatience visible by the way his muscles clench along his lower back, up to his shoulders.

"Come on," Brendon growls, biting at the cotton fabric of the pillowcase. Shane leans over his back, slithering upwards to press his lips into the nape of Brendon's neck, drag his teeth along the sensitive smooth skin behind his ear.

"You are so impatient," Shane tells him, moving his hands down to his shoulders, digging in along the blades and kneading.

Brendon hums, deep in his throat so that Shane can feel it through the tips of his fingers.

"I should make you wait," Shane continues, sliding back down, two fingers sinking back into Brendon's ass, a third as soon as the angle is right. Brendon makes another noise, so ready and malleable under Shane's hands, under his gaze. It was an unloaded threat, anyways.

Shane sits back, reaching around to the side of the bed, eyes not leaving the pale expanse of Brendon's skin. The light hits just right, shadowing along this shoulder blades, dark stripes where his back dips down before rounding upward. "Fuck," Shane says, almost a necessary thing to say as he slicks himself up, the view presented before him.

Brendon noticeably grins into the pillow, "Exactly," he says back, stretching outward and spreading more fully on the mattress.

Shane slaps lightly at his hip, grinning back even though Brendon can't see. He pushes in, tries to slow his movements, wants to make it last, wants to make Brendon writhe, to remember him while he's miles upon miles away. Brendon's hips snap up, too hard too fast along with the pressure around Shane's dick.

He sets a rhythm, an erratic combination of fast and slow to make up for when Brendon can't take it, too much familiarity to tease enough, sometimes. Shane gropes under them when he's close, palming at Brendon's cock before wrapping around, and Brendon's breath becomes more shallow, a whine in his throat and through his nose, a simple exclamation when he comes, hot and damp against his own stomach and Shane's fingers, clenching.

Shane comes on the down stroke, almost silent and eyes squeezed shut - the only time he doesn't want to watch the world, just wants to enjoy his own little corner.

"Fuck," he says, rolling over once he realizes he's cold and short of breath, and Brendon rolls his shoulders when Shane rolls beside him, turning into his neck.

"Gonna miss you," Brendon murmurs against his shoulder, sounding content.

"Just for the sex?" Shane asks, nuzzling back and squeezing tension out of Brendon's fingers.

Brendon laughs, warm and swats at him. "You ruined my sincere moment."

"I'm going to miss you, too, though," Shane says, after a moment, and Brendon worms himself closer, smiling.


End file.
